


The bridges that we build

by metalkiralylany



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Phone Sex, Phone Sex in a restaurant's bathroom, Post-Canon, Smut, Tumblr Prompt, mentioned characters include Chris Phichit and Celestino, no one walks in on them though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 09:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11688888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metalkiralylany/pseuds/metalkiralylany
Summary: “What’s the point of being engaged if I can’t even see my fiancé whenever I want to?”OR: Long-distance relationships may suck sometimes but they find a way to manage.My prompt was: "things you said with too many miles between us"





	The bridges that we build

**Author's Note:**

> prompt came from this post: http://eversncenewyork.tumblr.com/post/110395333021/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a  
> tumblr post: http://niktorvikiforov.tumblr.com/post/163727668174/15-and-viktuuri-d

 

Yuuri is out having lunch with Phichit and Celestino when he feels his phone vibrate in his suit’s pocket. Despite having parted ways at the beginning of last season, they were still on good enough terms with his old coach to get in contact when Yuuri was in town on official business, and he was always happy to see Phichit anyway, so soon he found himself sitting between them, laughing at their lighthearted conversation and enjoying a good meal, his worries temporarily forgotten.

His heart leaps in his chest when he sees the ID on the screen and he quickly excuses himself from the table to take the call he’s been waiting for all morning.

“Hi,” he breathes out a hurried greeting, leaning against the wall in a relatively quiet corner of the restaurant.

“Yuuuuri!” Yuuri can practically hear the grin in Viktor’s voice and he smiles fondly to himself. There’s a lot of background noise coming from the other end of the line, people chatting, glasses clinking, the occasional howl of laughter. It sounds like Viktor is calling from the banquet.

“Congratulations! You were amazing out there.”

He really was. Yuuri was admittedly worried about Viktor’s comeback, not because he didn’t trust his abilities to skate beautifully, but because so many people wanted him to _fail._ It was a jarring experience, seeing how vile people could get fighting over favorites, completely disregarding the fact that they were talking about real people who happened to hang out on social media from time to time. Viktor never paid much attention to the petty comments, Yuuri knew that, but there was a line, and many people have managed to cross it lately.

“You watched me?” Viktor asks in a low voice that sends chills down Yuuri’s spine.

“Of course I did.”

There is a pause in the conversation, and the silence is comfortable, there’s no need to fill every moment with words.

 

“Say hi for me!” Chris’s voice comes through the speaker slightly distorted, as if he’s yelling from a distance, and Viktor shushes him, laughing.

"Hello Chris!” Yuuri replies cheerfully. There’s more laughter then and a brief exchange in French before he hears Viktor move away from the party so they can hear each other properly.

“How is the banquet?” Yuuri asks.

“It’d be a lot more fun if you were here.” Viktor’s tone is teasing and he sighs theatrically. Yuuri just snorts.

“Yeah, right.”

“How was your lunch?”

“It was good. We’re still at the restaurant, actually.” Yuuri says and he has to shuffle closer to the wall as a waiter passes him, carrying a bunch of empty plates towards the kitchen.

“Oh. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” he rushes to reassure. “They know I was expecting your call. And I couldn’t wait to hear from you.”

Viktor chuckles.

“The press went a bit crazy over us, and then I’ve been here for over an _hour,_ talking to sponsors and other people that are supposed to be important.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“Terribly.”

“I can’t imagine how you managed, I know you _hate_ all the attention.” Now it’s Yuuri’s turn to tease, and he wouldn’t pass up on the opportunity.

“Maybe... it’s not the right kind of attention,” the other man sighs suggestively. _Well, shit._ That backfired.

“Oh.” That’s all he manages.

“I miss you,” Viktor says, and he sounds a lot more serious, making Yuuri’s heart swell in his chest.

“I miss you too, _Vitya._ ” The name still sounds unfamiliar to his own ears, as if he’s not saying it completely right, but he knows that Viktor loves it nonetheless. “You were beautiful on the ice, you know. I’m so glad I got to see it.”

“I hope next time you’ll see it live,” Viktor replies, a smile evident in his voice.

“I will,” Yuuri nods, mostly to himself. Whatever happens, he’ll be there.

“And… I also saw that your trip to the States really paid off,” the other man continues, and the sounds in the background are changing, until Yuuri hears a faint click, a door closing, leaving them in silence. Yuuri blushes slightly.

“You’ve seen the photoshoot?”

Of course he has. The online magazine published the best shots almost immediately, along with a brief summary of Yuuri’s rising career. They wanted him to wear his short program’s costume, and the photographer suggested some poses that he thought had fit the theme of _Eros_ , and Yuuri just went with what he asked him to do; he was the professional after all. He only briefly glanced at the results, secondhand embarrassment too strong, but he thought the photos turned out okay.

“Yes.” Viktor’s voice is deep, and he swallows audibly. “Your costume… _my_ costume… You looked great. I wish-”

There’s another pause as Viktor searches for his words.

“You wish?” Yuuri prompts.

“I wish you were here, so I could- I could tell you, _show_ you how much I liked it.”

Now _that_ makes him shiver, and he feels as if his face is on fire from the heated color creeping up on his cheeks.

“Just two more days, Vitya,” he murmurs, even though right now that sounds like an eternity.

“Too damn long!” Viktor almost whines. “What’s the point of being _engaged_ if I can’t even see my fiancé whenever I want to?”

 

 

 _Engaged_. _Fiancé_. No matter how many times Yuuri has heard those words, they never fail to amaze him, and he looks down at the golden band sitting on his finger, the physical proof that this isn’t some sort of wild fever dream.

“I have those photos saved, you know,” Viktor says suddenly. “The last one is my lockscreen. It’s-” he pauses, licking his lips. “I couldn't take my eyes off you.”

Something stirs at the bottom of Yuuri's stomach.

“Well, I'm glad you liked them,” he mumbles.

“And you know what the best thing is?” Viktor continues, his voice almost hypnotic. “That I know for a _fact_ that there's no editing needed to make you look like that. _God_ , Yuuri. You're perfect.”

“Vitya, _please-”_

_“I can't wait to have those thighs wrapped around my neck.”_

“ _Viktor_ I'm in public!” Yuuri splutters _,_ and he can feel his face getting progressively hotter, even though that seemed impossible a few minutes ago. He looks around quickly, praying silently that no one's listening in on their call, at least not on his end. He has no idea where Viktor is at the moment. This is pure torture, and Viktor is a cruel, _cruel_ man.

“I'm just trying to be honest, my dear.” Viktor says nonchalantly. “Open communication is important, don't you think?”

Yuuri lets out a chocked laugh. “I can't believe you sometimes.”

“Oh, but you should. I also have a lot more to tell you… if you're willing to listen…” he trails off. And who is he kidding, Yuuri doesn't stand a chance.

“Yes?” he breathes out.

He may die of sheer embarrassment later, but Viktor is impossible to resist, and it's really been too long since they've seen each other, and now that the tension surrounding Viktor's return to the ice is finally lifted from their shoulders, he wants nothing more than to be close to him again, to let the things he can't put into words translate into unforgettable touches, fingers, lips, and tongues leaving fiery trails on flushed skin… _God_ , this is just so unfair.

“I don't want anyone to interrupt us though,” Viktor says. “These things are for your ears only.”

 

Yuuri looks around, eyes searching for a more private place.

“There are too many people here,” he sighs, frustrated.

“Hm. Restaurants have some fancy bathrooms,” Viktor suggests.

This is just embarrassing, Yuuri thinks, but he begins to search for the men's room anyway, not having any better ideas himself. The one glass of wine he had with his lunch seems to be enough to fuel his courage and let desperation win over his sensible side.

He finally finds the door in question, thankfully even further away from the main area and quickly slips inside, noting that it _is_ indeed quite fancy. He enters one of the stalls, and once the lock on the door clicks shut, he suddenly feels really stupid. The space is big enough for him to stand, but it still feels a bit claustrophobic. At least it has real, tiled walls, giving him the air of privacy. Awkwardly, he sits down on the closed lid.

“Okay,” he takes a deep breath. “Tell me!”

Viktor hums, his voice low and familiar, leaving goosebumps across Yuuri’s skin, and he can practically see Viktor’s expression, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, clear blue eyes hooded and burning with something deep and raw, that piercing gaze only reserved for moments shared between the two of them. “Do you remember that time in Moscow… when I kissed your skate?”

“Yes.” How could he ever forget, the way Viktor’s long fingers wrapped around his ankle and his calf so gently, the moment their eyes met…

“When I saw you posing in that costume, I wanted to do that. Again. And more. I want to take each of your beautiful feet, and kiss every inch of your skin right up to your knees, then your inner thighs, so soft and warm…” Viktor pauses and Yuuri shudders, his skin tingling under the ghost of imagined touches, and his pants are starting to be uncomfortably tight. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d love that,” Yuuri whispers, not trusting his voice. “And…” He stops, biting his lower lip.

  _Is he- are they…?_ This is something new, something they’ve never done before; it sends his pulse racing both with excitement and nervousness. He thinks about where he is, where _Viktor_ is, he thinks about how he just ditched his old coach and his best friend for a phone call that’s rapidly turning into _something else._ He thinks about the fact that anyone could walk in on him at any moment, about the sole thin layer of wood shielding him from the outside world. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“And I’d tangle my hands into your hair to keep you exactly where I want you to be.”

 

_Wow._

 

Yuuri faintly hears Viktor’s breath hitch.

 

“You know me so well, _Solnishko moyo._ ”

“As well as you know me,” Yuuri replies, a soft smile spreading on his lips.

“Then you also know,” Viktor continues, his voice sweet and smooth as silk, and as he speaks, Yuuri’s hand wanders to the front of his pants, cupping himself gently, “how much I’d tease you… I’d kiss your stomach, I’d bite the skin on your hips where no one else can touch you, I’d take you apart slowly, with nothing but my lips… Until you can’t take it anymore.”

“And I’d let you,” Yuuri answers, letting himself get lost in the moment, concentrating on Viktor’s breathing while he lets his own hand wander under his shirt, touching the spots where Viktor’s lips should be, sliding under the waistband of his pants after he undoes the buttons with clumsy movements. “I’d let you because you look so beautiful sitting between my legs, I’d brush your hair back and stroke your head… your neck… I’d let my fingers curl into your skin and my nails would leave scratches on your back because you know _exactly_ what I like, I-” He runs out of air in the middle of a sentence, heart drumming against his ribs, his hand wrapped around his already hard cock. He adjust himself so he can pull his pants and boxers further down, giving himself more space and freedom of movement.

Also he doesn’t know how long they’ll last but he very much wants to avoid messing up his clothes, he wouldn’t be able to live with the humiliation if he’d have to walk out of here with his pants ruined because he came in them like some horny teenager.

“I miss the way you taste,” Viktor tells him between shaky inhales of breath. “I want to have my mouth all over you, to have all of you to myself…”

“I’m all yours, Vitya, I’m all yours,” Yuuri promises, and then he has to bite down hard on his lip to hold back a groan, because no matter how far gone he is, a tiny part of his brain is still painfully aware of where he is and what he’s risking. So far his luck has held out and no one has walked in, and he hopes it’ll stay that way.

On the other end of the line, Viktor chokes out a moan.

 

Talking is getting harder and harder and he has to pay extra attention to _actually_ sounding out his thoughts as his mind slips and forming words takes a lot of concentration, but the pauses between when they are both lost in their own fantasies are filled with the broken sounds they make, and Yuuri is starting to feel the heat in his stomach spread slowly through his body as his hand movements are becoming more frantic, his skin slick with pre-come.

“Before the end,” he says, licking his too dry lips, “I’d pull you in my lap so I could kiss you properly, I’d mark your neck and your shoulder so everyone would know…”

“ _Yuuri-_ ”

 “You- you’re so beautiful, so perfect,” Yuuri goes on, because Viktor deserves to hear that.

“Yuuri- I...” Viktor struggles to find words. “I need you- I need you to be here, always!”

“I want that too…” He wants nothing more in this moment but in every other moment as well. “I love you, Vitya,” he sighs, barely holding on.

“I- love you too,” Viktor replies instantly, and then he lets out a muffled sob, breath hitching in his throat, and the sound is enough to send Yuuri over the edge, his entire body stilling in an arch as he comes.

In those minutes as his muscles begin to tremble, he feels closer to Viktor than he has felt to anyone, as if there’re not several thousands of miles between them, the two of them connected by nothing but a phone call; he feels as if he could open his eyes and Viktor would be there, right in front of him.

“Yuuri?” Viktor speaks first, his voice shaky as he is only just beginning to come down from his high.

“Yes?” Yuuri whispers through the bliss.

“Move in with me!” Viktor breathes out. “I want to fall asleep and wake up next to your, every morning, forever.”

Yuuri’s chest suddenly feels too small to hold both his heart and his lungs, the overwhelming emotional impact of the moment threatening to leave him completely breathless, but he doesn’t mind, he doesn’t mind the tears swelling up in the corners of his vision or the mess on his stomach and around him on the floor. For now, he doesn’t care about the fact that soon enough he’ll have to face reality and walk back outside with some last shreds of dignity and no way to look his friends in the eye without blushing, because it’s in moments like this that he feels the most alive.

“Yes,” he laughs lightly, and he hears Viktor join him on the other end of the line. “I want that too.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> THANKS FOR READING I'M YELLING
> 
> I mean. Well. This is something I'd never written before, both in terms of content and the amount of dialogue that goes with it. It was only "proofread" by my tired eyes so I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes! Feel free to let me know what you think, whatever it might be ♥


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